hi hi hi it’s me again! i went on a prompt search and found ‘Distracting kisses from someone that are meant to stop the other person from finishing their work, and give them kisses instead’ and immediately thought tibbetchase because yes
something something modern AU where the boys can be happy and not *gestures to canon*
42. distracting kisses from someone that are meant to stop the other person from finishing their work, and give them kisses instead
Trying to stay focused on the laptop perched on his knees, Chase frowned and bit his lip. He'd taken all of the pictures he needed almost a whole week and a half before, and the hard part of his job was done. All he had to do, now, was make sure the lighting wasn't horrible and pick which ones to send to his editor, who would fix things up and decide on the layout for the article. It was the same thing he did with every project, the same routine that was so easy to fall into.
Except, in this particular instance, his ability to focus on his work was directly competing with the humming from the other end of the couch. It wasn't a bad sound, just distracting, like everything else that had to do with the man who was making the noise.
For almost a year, James Tibbet had been staying at his apartment while he got his feet under him. Moving all the way across the country wasn't easy, after all, and it certainly wasn't cheap. Staying with a friend had been a logical choice, and Chase was the only friend he had who actually had a place of his own - he had a job, and an apartment, and a savings account, and all those things stable adults had, things that James himself had no hope of seeing any time soon. After ten months, he was still working his same restaurant job, waiting tables and coming home smelling like burnt coffee, and he was still crashing on his friend's couch.
Actually, it had been a while since he'd slept on the couch, and even longer since Chase had been just his friend, but that wasn't really the point.
With a sigh, Chase looked away from the screen and turned his head to address the tune coming from the other cushion. Blank Space was a good song, he knew that, and he agreed with that, but he’d been listening to a hummed variation of the chorus for the last ten minutes, and he would do anything for a skip button. He’d even take Shake It Off, at this point.
“James...”
When his boyfriend stopped humming, there was a glint of something in his eyes. Pride, maybe? That was there a good majority of the time. “Yeah, Mo’?”
“I’m working.” He lifted the laptop a few inches and gave it a small shake to provide a visual for his point. “Can you go hum somewhere for like... half an hour? I’ll come get you as soon as I’m done and we can order dinner from that Chinese place down the street. I just really have to finish this.”
For his part, James seemed to really consider the idea, letting out a low, thoughtful sound. And, for a moment, he was naïve enough to think he might actually get a little bit of time to focus. He should have known better.
“No.”
Chase let out a sigh, closing his eyes for a few moments. “Fine, but that just means it's going to take twice as long for me to finish this." He shook his head, turning his attention back to the screen to make another attempt at focus. It probably wouldn't last long, but he could at least try, and maybe some progress would be made.
It lasted all of two minutes before the cushions moved, and he was aware of the body suddenly closer to his. It was a familiar feeling, the warmth, and it wasn't entirely unfamiliar to feel breath on his skin and then a featherlight kiss to the side of his neck. It wasn't even unpleasant. In fact, it was a good feeling, one he wanted to feel again. But it was very distracting.
"Tibbet..." It was the name that only came out when he was trying to convey his frustration and annoyance, a near weekly occurrence, but far less frequent than pet names and adoring gazes.
"What are you going to do about it, pretty boy?" He didn't have to look over to know that James was smirking, not that it would have done anything. Lips brushed over his skin again almost teasingly, demanding his attention even while his gaze tried to fix on his computer.
“I’m trying to work...” But, of course, the next kiss was lower, pressed to the patch of skin over his fluttering pulse, and it took everything he had not to sigh and relax into the cushions. Unfortunately, he was enjoying himself, and that meant it was harder to focus on what he was supposed to be doing when his boyfriend was so close. In the time they'd known each other, getting to know each other's bodies wasn't uncommon, certainly not when they started sleeping in the same bed, and even before then they still shared a living space. Seeing each other damp and coming out of the shower wasn't abnormal and- damn his brain for coming up with those images just then. "This is due in two hours, and then I'll be able to entertain you."
There was a low hum, just below his ear, but mercifully, the kisses stopped. For now. "But work is hard, and boring, and I'm-"
"Hard and not boring?"
It was not the first time they'd had the same conversation, not even the first time that week. The difference was, Chase was determined to not give in, this time. He was so close to being done with the project, and then whatever teasing and tormenting went on next to him could be continued for as long as they liked. After this, he had a week off to lounge around the house whenever James was out, and to lounge around in bed whenever he was home - he just had to get to that freedom, first.
"You're smart, too, pretty boy."
"Yeah, well, someone has to be. You know this apartment that you really like living in? The next half hour is going to pay for this month's rent."
James groaned and kissed his neck again - just a peck, no longer teasing or distracting, just enough to remind him of what was waiting on the other side of his work.
( "I'm gonna go shower. I'll wait for you in the bedroom."
hello hello i am this close to falling asleep but! curious what you’d do with ‘fuelled by sleepless nights’ for a fic title 👀
look.......... for you, i’ll do something not fitzdaisy, for a little variety (💜)
Ever since the serum was pushed through his veins, Chase’s life has been very different. He was lucky enough to be reassigned with the rest of the unit from that mission in Ciel Blanc, but that doesn’t make anything easy - he still needs to manage his new urges, keep their new team members from getting suspicious, and then things going wrong leads to him being separated from almost everyone who would know how to help.
The only familiar face is the annoying and rude man from Brooklyn who only seems to hate him more with each passing day, the one he once wanted to consider a friend.
Tibbet isn’t afraid. He’s been through worse than a little frontline gunfire, he’s seen real action. He’s not afraid, but he is ashamed. He had the opportunity to kill the man who had killed one of the only friends he had, but he couldn’t make himself pull the trigger. Now, he has his friend back, but there’s still that nagging voice in the back of his mind - is that thing even still Morton Chase?
[ send me a fic title and i’ll tell you what i’d write ]
- “pretty boy”
- “Shut up! It’s not your fault!”
- Tibbet was literally ready to kill a man
- against a direct order, he was going to kill a man
- i’m still kind of sad he didn’t get to be the one to do it
- “pretty boy”
- Chase’s gd heart eyes during that one scene with Tibbet and Paul
- Chase aggressively taking pictures of Tibbet on no less than three (3) separate occasions just bc
- “making friends already, pretty boy?”
- Chase looking to Tibbet for guidance as soon as there was trouble
- twice
- “pretty boy, you finally said something smart” “thank you”
- that look(tm) that Tibbet and Chloe shared when Chase came back
- Kiss It Better by He Is We
- the entire jackal conversation
- “pretty boy”
After one battle is fought, there’s always another. Sometimes, the next battle is internal, and entirely impossible to win.
He was tired of bullets.
After firing so many, getting hit by one, and waking up from death, Morton Chase never wanted to hear a gun go off again. They were being reassigned, so he supposed he’d hear a few more, but there was no guarantee he’d be reassigned anywhere near the rest of them. There was no guarantee that anyone on his new assignment would know how to handle his… urges. He may only be a correspondent, but he wasn’t stupid. His father didn’t pay for his university for him to graduate with a degree and still be stupid.
Life is rarely easy. The universe decides to throw you curveballs from time to time. And on occasion, those curveballs come in the form of a three and a half hour flight delay when you’re supposed to be celebrating.
The repeated sound of a camera shutter from halfway down the row of poorly padded seats seemed to get more and more grating the longer the flight was delayed. From what Tibbet could tell, the tireless photographer was on his extremely late flight, seeing as most of the other gates had cleared their waiting areas at least once since he'd sat down — three hours prior to when the sound of the camera got on his nerves enough that he couldn't help but to say something.
"Hey, pretty boy, you might want to save some of the space on that fancy camera of yours for your destination." He made sure his accent was clear with the words, a giveaway that he would be on the same flight headed to New York from the other side of the country. If his fellow passenger was going to be making noise and being a general nuisance, it had to stop before they boarded.
